Ill: Evil's Definition
by MRAY 4TW
Summary: The road to hell is paved with good intentions, one that is riddled with secretive acts and conspiracies surrounding the most infamous group in history. But who's to judge when Alvin willingly walks the road of the Illuminati to save Brittany's life, soon to be at the expense of his own? (CGI) (Complete) (Warning: Deep subject matters pertaining to Religion and the Illuminati)
1. Ill

Evil's Definition

* * *

 **There's no more. Too little for Too much.**

"What?!" Alvin couldn't believe his ears. "Are you serious?!"

Dave nodded his head sadly. "Alvin, you know that I wouldn't want to lie to you. But right now, I want to. We've gone broke over this. The bills keep piling up and any more payments we make is going to put us out of our house completely. Not to mention the mortgage is due-"

"There's that word again!" Alvin mumbled in annoyance from where he stood on the table. "What's it mean?!"

Dave ran a hand through his hair, wondering how to dumb down the definition for his son simple enough for him to understand. "I borrowed a lot of money from the bank, and they'll own our house until I pay them back."

"The same money for her treatment? What kind of messed up world is this! If someone is in danger, they should get help! If someone is hungry, they should get food! If someone is sick, they should get medicine!"

Dave wanted to tell him that things didn't quite go like that in the world; in fact, far from it. He could tell that he was getting extremely involved because it was Brittany who was fighting for breath in the hospital room next to them, and Alvin being who he was, couldn't keep his voice down. Not for his sake, Brittany's sake, or anyone's peace sake for that matter. The nurses that passed shot them glares, eye-signals to keep their voice's down (particularly Alvin's,) but Alvin didn't care.

"She's sick, Dave! Pulnary…pulnary fibs or something…"

"Pulmonary fibrosis…" Dave corrected gently.

"Whatever!" Alvin retorted. "It's stopping her from breathing, and you're going to tell me that the only thing stopping her from getting the help that she needs is _**a few**_ _**pills**_?! She's not even as big as an adult-"

"And yet she still managed to contract an illness that only tends to crop up in middle-aged people," Dave corrected in a small tone.

Alvin sighed sadly. "Well, that's your money. What about my money? What about the money that you said you set aside for us from our first Christmas together, before Ian showed up with his plastic junk? Can't it help?" Alvin sounded desperate; he was really counting on that silver lining, hoping against hope that the gift that he had thought was 'lame' would actually turn out to be a lifesaver.

But seeing Dave's face, he could already read the answer in the man's expression. Without saying anything more, Alvin turned away, not wanting his father to see his eyes leak tears. He leaped away from the table and used his weight to fall onto the lever handle of the door to open it, before letting himself fall to the floor. As soon as he did, he used every ounce of strength in his body to push the massive door shut before making his way to the bed by the window.

Hospitals. They smelt…funny. Being that close to the ground, he got it worse. But it didn't even serve as a distraction as he got to Brittany's bed and climbed up by a corner of it. He had to tread carefully once he reached the top; stepping over a tube or two, ducking others. Finally, he made it to Brittany's side and to his mild surprise, he found her asleep. She found it hard to sleep when the disease and scarring of her lungs robbed her of breath, worse than any case of asthma or tuberculosis.

He couldn't even tell when last he heard her sing. In fact…it was during the last time that he realized that something was wrong…when she failed to keep a note before running out of air.

"Brittany?"

She didn't wake. If she was actually awake, she didn't show.

He realized his mistake in calling her name. Let her…let her get the rest she needed. To be honest, sleep was all she had left as an escape from the pain and lack of air she had to deal with constantly. "Aw…geez. I don't know what to say," the chipmunk muttered. He thought of their past two years of being in each other's companionship; though riddled with rivalry, he had come to realize that there was something more. From his perspective, of course. He had no idea how Brittany Miller truly felt about him. Not even one.

He lied on his side next to her, merely listening to her sounds of pained living. He wished that there was something he could do. Something else, that is. But no matter how much he would've liked to skirt the issue, the sounds…the god-awful beeps of the life support, the strained breathing, the aching wheezing-

"Alvin?" A voice softly called his name, wrenching him from his brief insanity. Realizing that it was Brittany, he inched closer to her so that she wouldn't have to expend more energy into talking that which was necessary-…this was a rare time.

"Yeah, Brit? What is it? Do you need something? Water? Food? Pillows?" He asked eagerly, anxious to please. Anything to make her more comfortable, he would-

"Just let it be, Alvin." She spoke languidly but was by no means relaxed. "I know what you're thinking. I…had a nightmare…just now. Who knows what those people do…I've even heard of demonic rituals-"

"They're just stories, Brittany!" He exclaimed worriedly. "If their money buys the medication you need, I don't care if I have to sell my soul! I just want you better!"

"If there's a heaven or a hell, you know that there's only one way you'll go."

"And before that time comes, I want every second we have on earth together." His lower lip quivered slightly. "It…hurts me too, Brittany, to see _you_ hurting."

"I thought you'd celebrate, if nothing else," she tried to joke, but it was in poor taste. "But what I'm going through…I'm gonna beat it."

"No…You're not. The doctors said that it's incurable. Some of them are chewing out Dave for letting you suffer like this. Talking about 'putting you to sleep using injections' and all that bullsh-"

As he droned on and on about this, Brittany pondered her lapse into this illness and thought, somehow, about how it brought her and Alvin closer together. She could tell that Alvin must've chewed out the doctors on the spot, given his current antics.

She nerved herself. Then relaxed.

She sought for strength, strength that lied dormant inside her, using it to reach her closest arm to Alvin even closer to grasp his hand, straining for breath the whole time. "Alvin…I… _love_ … _you._ But if you...do this…" Her eyes steeled in seriousness. "I'll… **never** …forgive…you…"

Alvin blinked, trying to wrap his mind around her confession. Soon, he smiled, but it looked…grim. "I love you too." He eased his hand out of her slack grip. "But I'll live with that…and you're going to have to live with that too. I don't care if you spend the rest of your life hating me…you're going to live your full life, and that's all that matters to me." Speaking this…lie, cut him deeply. He finally found out that she loved him, and all he had wanted was hers in return. Damn this illness! Damn it to hell!

Would he re-make his acquaintance with the illness there? He didn't care. He was going to rub shoulders with Adolf Hitler and Judas Iscariot and all those other 'evil' people, maybe with Satan too. But Brittany was going to live. That was good enough for him. Enough for the rest of his cursed life. "They told me that they have the best doctors, money for medicine. You'll be healthy for the rest of your life."

"And you'll be in hell after yours is done." She shot back as her heart threatened to fail, tears starting to shed from her dulling blue eyes. He was rejecting her, she believed. She was trying to believe that all he wanted was for her to be all right, but she almost didn't want to believe it…it was hardly reason enough to hate him. She loved him, and he told her that he loved her too. Shouldn't things be different now? Well, they were, and things would never be the same.

"I don't think I care anymore. They can't be all bad…they even sent me a red cap in the mail yesterday, with my 'A' on it already. Starting tomorrow, they'll get better doctors to look after you properly, and somewhere you can actually live after this is over, without worrying about the bank owning our house. But me? I'll be in the Illuminati."

* * *

 **Well, yeah. I mean, I guess you could tell where the fic was going. This very tiny, tiny fic. Tiny by my standards, anyway. But 'Ill' meant two things. The sickness, and the Illuminati.**

 **It's real, you know. The Eye of Providence is just the tip of the iceberg. But I was thinking…how many public and social figures wanted to join the Illuminati? Maybe it was desperation? All I've got to work with are Internet rumors and all that junk. But every one of us have an inkling as who these people are, and who's a part of their 'organization', although we try to ignore it…**

 **Oh well.**

 **This fic was meant to let everyone know that I'm back from involuntary hiatus. If you see this, it means that you'll soon be seeing updates to other stories. Still in turns, though. That doesn't change, although it beats waiting for an update that doesn't come. Thanks for fixing the computer, Prophet! Bro-fist!**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	2. Ill 2

**Ill: Evil's Definition**

 **Well, due to demands, I guess I'm making another update to this. It was supposed to be a one shot, but since you asked…**

 **To** **YOU** **: MRAY's tired. But I hope you enjoy the chapter; I hope you all are. It's a part of my Universal Update, and suffice to say, it's a bit time intensive. Good thing I enjoy writing fanfiction, no? It's good to be back. In any case, leave a review on your thoughts, likes, peeves and whatnot.**

 **2.**

 **It Was All Right.**

"You sure?" Alvin asked.

Sure. They all said so. These people. They said that it was all right. That was good…right?

"So, she's going to be fine?" Alvin asked again. The man, whose shoulder he was riding on, nodded in his response. He didn't turn his head to face the chipmunk, though. It was something that Alvin didn't really like about the man. Apparently, he was some sort of handler for him; Alvin knew he was an animal, and he didn't like it. The man, that is. He just radiated the vibe that indicated that he thought he was superior because he was man.

"The chipette-… Brittany? She will recover," the man said in a plain British accent. The man continued to walk briskly through the corridors, each step purposeful and with intent to get to the destination without any delay. As they journeyed, Alvin took in the sights of the halls, lined with large portraits done up in black & white, sepia, and intricate pointillism. Some were titled, others were not.

"Who's… 'Adam Weishaupt'? Did I say that right?" Alvin asked out of curiosity. The man merely smirked as if he knew a secret, neglecting to answer. Alvin was going to ask again, but the man finally stepped towards an elevator, punching the button for the ground floor. This made Alvin even more confused, even more so than he was already.

"Ground floor? But we're already at least four floors underneath the Denver International Airport!"

And yet… why did it feel like he was going down even further?

There was something about this… it made Alvin feel like he was descending into a grave. Was this a sign to symbolize that he had resigned himself to a living death?

…

…

…

They finally stepped out of the elevator and continued moving forward. There were multiple corridors that ran in an intercourse like a grid, but Alvin was sure that he could memorize it if he was lost on his own later. But just as soon as he was about to start taking mental notes, the man came to stop in front of a door. "This is where you'll stay, until the higher echelon calls for you."

"What does 'echelon' mean?"

The man shook his head as he let the chipmunk down whilst opening the oak door. "I've heard that your brother was smarter than you. I believed that you were of a high intelligence and he was of a higher one. Simon, was it? There might be some overestimation, and he might be closer to a normal intelligence after all."

Alvin could detect an insult when he heard it. 'Did he just call me a dunce?!' "Hey, I'll have you know that I'm not an idiot! If you like the taste of dictionaries, feel free to keep on eating them!"

"While you have many fans," the man began as he frowned deeply, "so do many other artistes. I'm not a fan of rodents with helium voices singing in auto-tune."

"AUTO-TUNE?!" Alvin couldn't believe his ears. "It's all natural, and don't you forget it!" The man shrugged in his apparent callousness.

"I couldn't care any less even if I tried." The man stared down, and Alvin felt a shiver from the man's cold glare. "You should be informed that you're not here because you want to. You're not here because we want you to. You're here to serve only a single purpose that many others are capable of achieving. Whether you remain here after you fulfill that purpose depends on how much you dedicate yourself to the Illuminati; others have died for much less than your sass. You've already failed at controlling yourself, and black marks on your record are permanent."

"So what, I get suspended or expelled or something?" Alvin asked, rolling his eyes. He had heard the words 'permanent' and 'record' before. But in response, the man merely laughed, before lapsing back into his chilling demeanor.

"No. Not expelled," the man said simply. " _Dispatched_." With that said, he began walking away in his inherent briskness, leaving Alvin alone.

"That guy's creepy," Alvin muttured. "And what the heck does 'dispatch' mean?" Alvin waved it off mentally before bounding into the room that was occupied only by him. On the inside, it looked very…

"HOLY CRAP! THIS MUST BE LIKE A FIRST CLASS VERSION OF 'FIRST CLASS'!"

The bed was _big_. The television was even bigger. There was a snack bar… correction… snack _bars_ _ **.**_ And an actual bar. Alvin ceased his survey at this point.

"I think I'm an adult now…in chipmunk years! Time to find out what the fuss is all about, anyway!"

 **=X=X=**

Brittany ran along with her sister, engaging in aerobic exercise to help get her body (and more importantly, her lungs), back up to snuff. She lost more and more breath as she more-or-less raced against her, but had to stop altogether when her body gave up on her. "I (pant) can't (pant) go (pant) any (pant) further!"

"I still have plenty of gas to keep going, Brittany!" Eleanor said while smiling broadly. "But don't worry, you're getting better! That's what counts, right?" At these words, Brittany's eyes became downcast as she felt her mood sour.

Brittany tried to catch her breath. "Um… yeah. That's what counts." Although Eleanor overall accepted her response, she could tell that she was still trying to come to terms with Alvin's breaking off. "I'm going to head upstairs."

"Alright. I'm gonna go see what Theo's doing." Eleanor scampered off elsewhere while Brittany remained where she was. At long last, she was about to get up, but Dave chanced into the room.

"Hey, Brittany. Did you take your medicine?"

"Ugh. I hate those pills! They're bitter!" But Dave wouldn't have any of it; he beckoned to her to follow him into the kitchen. He kept them there on a high shelf so that she could have it with meals, or with sweet things, which she preferred more. "Is it five pm already?"

"Yeah." Dave unscrewed the jar of medicine while slightly dumping a few into the cap which he placed on the table she climbed to stand atop. "You know that I can't touch these pills. They're too small for me to handle."

"Uh huh." Brittany took two from the cap while Dave returned the rest to the bottle and corked it. While he placed the pill-bottle in its place, he watched Brittany out of the corner of his eye and noticed that she hadn't taken it yet.

"What? Waiting on maple syrup to go with your pancakes?"

"Hah hah," the chipette laughter was flat and sarcastic. "Very funny. It's just that I don't want it."

"Brittany, you need it to fully get better, or the illness might come back-"

"I said I DON'T WANT IT!" Brittany screamed as she threw the pills away with all her might. It didn't matter much at their nearly insignificant size since the jar was filled with hundreds of them whereas normal (human-sized) pills would have filled it with a couple dozen. The pills were lost; Dave frowned deeply at her actions and her insolence.

"Brittany, this is supposed to help you! This isn't a time for being stubborn or rude-"

"It's not that, Dave!" Her voice dropped. "It's not that." She felt tears beginning to prick at her eyes and no matter how much she tried to hide them by rubbing them away with her arms, they kept running regardless. "It's not that."

Dave's anger quelled as his eyes softened. "What's wrong?"

"These pills, Dave! They didn't come cheap! The surgeries were super expensive too!" Dave immediately understood what she was talking about, but he let her continue. "I know that Alvin bought these, Dave! But he didn't buy them with money! If it were just the bitterness, I'd take them. But every day, _every time_ …" Brittany took a deep breath, trying to calm herself but still failing in the futility. "Every time I take them, I feel like I'm _eating_ Alvin's **soul** or something. That's what he's probably given up so that I'd live! I just can't bring myself to take them anymore."

"Brittany, I sympathize with you. I really do." Dave entered his 'father-figure' persona. "But you know that we're not allowed to _talk_ about this. We don't know if we're really in privacy. Alvin could get into trouble for telling us about being in the Ill-" He stopped himself from saying the full name of the shadowy organization. "Being in that _group_."

"That's the point! He shouldn't be there with them, Dave!"

Dave nearly felt like crying along with the chipette. "He's still alive. That's all I can give thanks for now. My son's still alive. But if you don't take the pills, then you're basically spitting on his sacrifice so that you could be cured. I won't tell you anymore to take them because that's up to you. All I can ask is that you reconsider." He took down the jar of pills once more and placed them on the table in front of her. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for even letting him go."

Dave promptly took his leave. The last person he wanted to see him cry was Brittany; she needed someone to be strong for her, and that was all he could do for her at this time.

 **=X=X=**

Alvin's eyes opened ever so slowly; the light hurt his eyes dreadfully and the shock of a migraine hit him like a truck. "Ugggghhh…my head…" His surroundings blurred into focus gradually over time and it wasn't long before he saw that a man was towering above him. "Huh?"

"Good morning."

"Good… wha?" Alvin struggled to gather the pieces of his mind as he tried to stand up, but the ground kept spinning around him in his dizziness. He, however, saw the bottle of liquor he had accidentally smashed, and the cap he had drunk some of the spillage from. "Urrgg… All I had was less than a… a _capful_?" He couldn't believe it. That tiny amount?!

"You broke my bottle of Scotch… whoever or whatever you are." The man's voice sounded like distant thunder as Alvin's whole body ached. "Why are you in my room?"

"Your room?" Alvin slurred comically, rubbing his eyes as he tried to clarify his vision. "Didn't you see 'Alvin' on the room door?" His tone was a bit boastful, but Alvin was confident that this was his room. After all, he was dropped off here, right?

"Alvin, huh?" The man asked. "No. My name's on the door. I'm asking again…why are you here in my room?" Alvin could tell that the man's patience was wearing thin, so the chipmunk made an effort to gather his mind and answer.

"Alvin. Super-mega-awesome singer from the world famous band, 'Alvin and the Chipmunks'." The chipmunk looked up and took in the sight of the man. "Hmm…who are you?"

"Huh. Your ego's a lot bigger than you are. My name's Chester," the man pointed at himself. Alvin stared at the man with metalcore-style earrings, close shave and glasses. He was wearing a t-shirt, exposing his flame-design tattoos on his hands.

"Wait… Chester, Chester…" Alvin turned the name over and over in his mind, trying to figure out where he knew the man from. At long last, it came to him. "Wait a minute… Chester Bennington from Linkin Park?!"

"Yeah. That's me."

 **That's another chapter done. This fic, while not a main priority on my stories that needs updates, will receive them while on my roster. I guess we'll see where it goes.**

 **Adam Weishaupt is (one of) the founding fathers of the Illuminati. Fact.**

 **Yeah. I'm incorporating Chester Bennington into the fic.**

 **Chester Bennington was in the Illuminati. That much was obvious. But I'm expressing my condolences to the family, friends and coworkers of the front-man of Linkin Park. He was one of my favorite singers due to his versatility in singing different genres (like rock, metal, nu-metal, pop and all their alternatives), and he'll be sadly missed. I'm not going to be using any conspiracies surrounding his death (out of respect and lack of credibility at this point) but I will somewhat be using his image as a bit of story material. It's tragic. He committed suicide on July 20** **th** **, 2017. This chapter is set before he died, though, date-wise. Story-wise, however, I can't really tell you what I plan to do with him, as the plot for this story in my head is a bit small. Not much of a plan going on there, but I plan on doing my best.**

 **Anyway, take care.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	3. Ill 3

**Ill: Evil's Definition**

 **So… yeah. Guest. Please make an account. PMs would be more convenient. Trust me!**

 **About the Illuminati: Yeah, yeah, I know about the Illuminati's history. I know about their ambitions and their maxims of enlightenment as to where science is concerned. But there ARE some religious ties. It's a bit backwards, but you have to look at the Illuminati from religion's point of view if you want to understand. So any atheists out there, read with an open mind. I guess this applies to religious people too. My rear got sore from sitting on the fence so I could remain neutral while writing this.**

 **And… I know that there are a whole lot of conspiracy theories. But since we don't know who's a member of a lodge (there are dozens of different kinds of lodges with different ideals and secret intentions) we the people cut through the whole tangled problem and go with the first cult name that comes to mind. Errm… yeah, 'Illuminati', so to speak.**

 **But before I go ruining this fic, I'll let the fic explain for itself. Oh, and thanks for the 'Disclaimer', warning.**

 **Disclaimer: While this is mostly an Alternate Universe (which fanfiction ISN'T?), I don't, in any way, condone underage drinking. What occurred was what I believed a teenaged Alvin would react if he saw liquor. My sense of humor fluctuates sometimes. It also helped to split the scenes.**

 **3.**

"So that's why, huh?" Chester nodded absently as he thought about what Alvin had said. "You did this for your girl?"

"She's not my girl!"

Chester grinned. "That sound like it's either an untruth or a flat-out lie. Or just being dumb. You, that is."

Alvin growled a bit in frustration. "Wait… what-"

The rock singer shook his head in wry amusement. "Don't worry about it. Even if you say she isn't your girlfriend or wife or whatever, I can still see that she's close to you. Maybe you should work on that." In response to that, Alvin merely raised his improvised cup (a bottle-cap) of mineral water and drank from it as if he were at ease, but was still in fact worrying.

"Nope. She hates my guts for joining in the Illuminati. She probably thinks that I-"

"Sold your soul to the Devil?" Bennington finished. Alvin's eyes widened when he heard this, and did a spit-take, narrowly missing the rock singer. "Hey! Watch it!"

"I don't have to do anything like that, will I?!" Alvin nearly bawled in fear. Chester shook his head at the boy's misconception, wondering if it would be a recurring trait in the chipmunk.

"Calm down. First off, although you just stepped into the biggest pile of cow-crap in your life, you need to get your facts straight. The Illuminati isn't some kind of credit union for people down on their luck, giving out money for those who join. Which came first, the invite, or your girl's sickness?"

"The 'girl's name is BRITTANY," Alvin corrected the man severely, "and for the record, the invitation came first. I had it for six months. I said 'no', but they were pretty stubborn for an entire month, before they said that the offer would remain open. Then they left me alone."

Chester seemed to sense that there was something off about this, but he didn't press the inquiry into this. "Whatever. The second thing is that you're not IN the Illuminati. You're working FOR the Illuminati. Like independent agents. Don't worry about selling your soul. The only thing really soulless here is that some of these important scrooges scammed poor people, or run huge profit lotteries that no one seems to win. Or if someone wins, it's actually someone who works for the company and is pretending that winning isn't downright impossible. It's fixed gambling, you know."

"Wait!" Alvin was baffled. "So everything I heard-"

Chester held up a hand to stop the chipmunk from prattling. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Alvin. The Illuminati is still a satanic cult, it just depends on how you look at it. When you step out of your house in the morning, you don't really know how terrible you look until someone says 'hey, fix your shirt collar', or 'hey, your shoes could use a polish'. The Illuminati doesn't see themselves as satanic. They're all mostly a bunch of atheists. Smart atheists too. Quite a few of them are scientists and aristocrats and whatnot. But it's the public that calls them satanic. If you go to church and believe in God, you'll believe that you're right for worshipping God, and the Illuminati is wrong. I think it's like three-quarters of the earth is like that, believing in some sort of God that has stories about an anti-God, like Satan, for instance. But when you worship your God, only to have a bunch of people tell you that your God isn't real, you accuse them of working with the devil. If you don't worship God, you're worshiping Satan by default. See where I'm going with this?"

"Kinda. But if that's the case, why the hell does the Illuminati want us to work for them?" Alvin's curiosity was piqued, as was his happier vibe. It could be because he thought he would have had his soul eaten by some goat-looking satanic creature. Good thing he was wrong, Alvin thought.

"Simple." Chester began to drop ice into his now empty glass. "Where'd I put that Scotch…" he glanced at Alvin, noticed his sheepish grin before sighing. "I forgot. You broke my Scotch I was saving. Twelve years old, too! Maybe it was for the best. I'm still trying to cut back on my drinking…"

"Get to the point! You know, the one you _derailed_ from!" Alvin yelled in impatience.

"Tsk. Whatever. It's basically about conversion. What I'm saying is that we the singers basically have the whole world listening to us. We sing music. Distracting. Soothing. Understanding. Confident. Angry. Get what I'm saying?"

"Not a clue."

"The music that's 'Distracting' helps people take their minds off their problems. Music that's 'soothing' calms people down. 'Understanding' music tells the listeners that the singers know their problems and can relate to them. 'Confident' music inspires people to have better esteem, to do things on their own. 'Angry' music… hmm… I guess you could say is that it has a 'screw you, world!' vibe to it. It basically tells people to get over their problems, or to go smash their problem in the face with a shovel, if you catch my drift."

Alvin gestured for a refill of mineral water in his cap, which Chester obliged. "I think I understand…"

"Yeah, yeah. I guess a good example of 'Distracting' music would be Pop music. Beats that are super catchy and hard to get rid of once they're in your head. Like Michael Jackson, Rihanna, Fall Out Boy… and you, Alvin. Distracting. People forget about your life problems after listening to folks like you."

"Keep going."

"'Soothing' is like Orchestral music, for the older types. Or Country. Or slow Rhythm and Blues. Like John Lennon, Luke Bryan… maybe John Legend, too. 'Understanding' music will be songs done by the likes of Three Days Grace. They sound like the guys to listen to if you're having a break-up. Romantically, of course. Or Thousand Foot Krutch. I guess Taylor Swift fits the bill, too. Not for romantic problems, though-'

"I know what Taylor Swift sings! Wait, are all these singers and bands working for the Illuminati?" Alvin asked curiously, wondering if he might get to meet them in the near future.

"No. I'm just giving examples, they're not necessarily working here," Chester explained. "Some of them might, but I'm not spoiling it for you. 'Confident' music… I guess you can hear that in lively instrumental music, or Electronic Dance Music, Dubstep, and Pop music. Maybe a little Rap and Hip-Hop music, too... Like Skrillex for EDM, Stargate for Dubstep music, Eminem, and Drake for Rap. Wu Tang Clan for Hip-Hop. Not to mention the fact that Michael Jackson has a few songs that inspire confidence. I mean really, who can stop themselves from not feeling energetic when 'Thriller' or 'Beat It' starts to play?"

"You sound like a fan," Alvin observed carefully. "And what about 'Angry' music?"

Chester raised an eyebrow. "Rock, MetalCore, Hard Alternative Rock… hell, there are too many genres for that.."

"Who sings stuff like that?" Alvin was genuinely curious but had a feeling that he'd be sorry he asked.

"Slipknot, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Avenged Sevenfold, ACDC, Death, Korn, Led Zeppelin, System of a Down, Disturbed, Limp Bizkit-"

"I GET IT!" Alvin's hands flew up to cover his ears. "I get it! There's a lot of angry music out there!"

"And me…" Chester added quietly. "I contribute through Linkin Park." His small voice still made it into Alvin's ear, making him look up in surprise before his demeanor became soured.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." Chester lied through his teeth as he thought back on his poor life choices that led him here. "I try not to anymore, though." 'The higher ups are cursing me out about it, though.'

"I noticed. 'One More Light' sounded like a drastic change from Rock music to Pop music. But why would the Illuminati need singers to sing these types of music?"

"They employ singers to sing the type of songs that different people all around the world want to hear. And once you have music of all these types… music that's Distracting, Soothing, Understanding, Confident, Angry… who needs God, when there's music that helps you to get over life's problems and makes you want to fix them yourself? Who needs God when you've got the 'power' of the 'music' that distracts, comforts, enrages and fuels you to take action for yourself? Who would need God?"

Alvin's heart fell.

"And because of this, the singing techniques we use to sing, the lyrics people hear, our public appearances… it's really easy to believe that the Illuminati is satanic. They basically turn God-fearing people into a neutral state, or depressing state, it depends on how you look at it. Religious people see this as a negative influence. Since this is basically working against the idea of a God, it means that the Illuminati is basically the negative side of religion. To put it simple, if you're a Christian, that is… if you're not working for the good of God, you're working for Satan. Two sides of the same coin. You can't call the Illuminati satanic, 'cause if you do, it means that you're religious, and you believe in God. They don't see themselves as satanic, and want to downplay all religion. It's as simple as that. Both sides think they're right and that the other is wrong. End of story."

Alvin had lent his ear to all these things. He now knew more and should be all the wiser. As the saying went, knowledge is power. Was he stronger because he knew all this?

Or weaker?

Should he tell someone back home? No? Yes?

Brittany? Should he tell her? Would she forgive him? No? Yes?

He didn't know.

If one thing was certain, however, was that he was never getting out of the Illuminati either way.

Was that such a bad thing, however? He had always had a shaky belief that there was a higher being, although he could hardly count the number of minutes he had spent in a church or even praying, in fact. Five minutes at the most. He figured that he was like most people, believing that there was a God, but not knowing who to worship, or if he did, how to worship them properly. When he graced his food, it was 'manners and etiquette' that Dave forced on him. He only mumbled a quick prayer if something was going wrong, and the prayer would be vague, so it could be addressed to any higher being that might have existed. Alvin didn't necessarily have the belief.

Despite of this, however, someone had to be right and the other, wrong. Either there was either a God and the Illuminati was a 'dark' side, trying to disprove the existence, or there wasn't a God, and the Illuminati were in the right after all. Alvin knew that he wouldn't able to continue until he knew the truth.

Whether or not there was a God…

A thought came to him. "Hey, Chester. Do you believe in God?" To which, the man raised an eyebrow as he poured himself a drink from the bottle of mineral water.

"If I answer that, I'll probably lie. That's a question that has an answer that's different for everyone. Belief in a God is good, especially if the God is real. But belief in one's self is good too. That's as good as an answer I can tell you."

Alvin nodded. "Uh huh. You're basically saying that belief is good either way. You can't make up your mind. You're just like me."

"Okay then, smart guy, what do **you** believe in?" To which, the chipmunk looked down, unable to find a good riposte to the nerve-provoking question.

"I don't know."

 **That's it!  
A hard and difficult question, I know. But when I'm sleepy, I can answer super-difficult questions. I once figured out the meaning of life at two in the morning, and the answer is acceptable by both sides of religion.**

 **Is there a God… or not?**

 **I guess I'll be going through sleep-deprivation in the near future so I can figure out the answer. Might as well; I'll be typing more, anyway. Next chapter, we should be doing things from Brittany's side of the fence. I want this shipping to 'set sail' if you catch my drift. But if I screw up, don't get mad. I'm a guy, and it's a scientific fact that girl fanfic-writers are WAY better at writing romance. Ladies, you have my respect.**

 **#What'sEvil'sDefinition?**

 **As to what Chester said, you may disregard it if you want to, but this** _ **IS**_ **what hours of research turned up, as well as dangerous thoughts that threatened to make my hair turn gray with stress. I also tried to be vague, so no one can accuse me of making insinuations, not to mention sticking as closely to the truth as possible. Be careful of what kind of music you listen to…**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	4. Ill 4

**Ill: Evil's Definition**

 **I've been gone for a while. A LONG ONE. But don't worry. I have the answer, and I've kept my faith/religion (and bias) out of it. It's from one of my original stories, '** _ **Omniscience'**_ **, that addresses this kind of question, and I'm going to be sourcing a little from it.**

 **4.**

It'd been two years.

Alvin had been recruited precisely twenty-four months ago by the Illuminati, taking their offer mainly for financial aid to purchase radical medication for Brittany's sake. There were no more pranks, no more trouble-making, no more general mischief. While it was considered a good thing at first (although none would say it out loud), there were other factors.

There was no one to rouse them at the top of their lungs with an 'up-and-at-'em' attitude. No one to drive them out of their minds with annoying shenanigans and keep them on their toes. No one to truly inspire self-confidence when they were out, despite their own efforts to step into the role. No one to mock-fight or play-argue with. No one to inspire competition, or to initiate a lively song to get their blood pumping.

There used to be a three-of-three with a three-of-three. Not only had he left his brothers, but he'd created an imbalance in their entire dynamic because of it; three chipettes to two chipmunks, they hadn't realized how much they truly valued him, even as a place-holder… until he was gone.

He used to stop by in the early months following his recruitment. He and his brothers were called 'Alvin and the Chipmunks' for a reason. Over time, however, they grew more irregular as Alvin pursued a 'solo' career. Their own musical careers were getting down, yet he thrived, even making more money than they all did when performing together. While unusual, it was worsened by the fact that the Red Seville no longer sang with them, differing to doing song features with other Pop and Rock artists. It was Eleanor who said what was all on their minds.

"Sell-out," she commented quietly, before going back to her room.

He did transfer all of his funds to his adoptive father to effectively manage his money, so Alvin was essentially paying the bills. It worked out; they were clothed, they received their schooling, food was on the table, Brittany was getting her medicine, so on and so forth.

Was it for the best? They didn't know. But they missed him. That didn't change.

…

"Brittany, you're going to be late," Dave reminded severely before he downed his hot coffee in a few painful swallows. Rapidly skimming through the headlines in his newspaper, he dropped it to look at the chipette who was still staring at the tiny pill before her. "Brittany…"

She acknowledged the warning and took the pill, washing it down with a bit of orange juice from her cup that was custom-made for her size. "It's not the taste. I was just thinking… that was the last pill, wasn't it? I saw you throw away the pill bottle in the trash." She looked up at the man, and he couldn't help but take note of her jaded expression. Drab eyes, a flat expression. She wasn't tired, nor was she unhappy. She was fatigued from all of her experiences, and a yearning she denied. He had already said all he could say, expressed all he could express. She'd accepted this bizarre turn of events as part of their new way of life.

She still abhorred it.

"I guess he doesn't have a soul left, huh?" The chipette had a strange, twisted smile on her face. "I finished it off. I ate a piece of it every morning. Sometimes, I had it with waffles, sometimes I ate it with a pancake, wash it down with milk or juice or water. Maybe if I hadn't taken a single pill, they would've let him go… I must be all kinds of crazy to eat his soul, am I right?"

"Brittany, we've been over this. He did this for you. Furthermore, I've been told that you're due to get another bottle. After that, there's another one. It's a six-year treatment, but it's been expected for you to have this illness licked within three more years-" The man brought himself to a stop when he realized that she'd stop listening. He thought that this she would've received it as good news, but in hindsight, he realized that he should've kept it to himself. He had made a show of throwing the empty bottle into the trash, a demonstration that she'd conquered a third of her treatment. Now, he couldn't even begin to imagine what was running through her mind. "… Um… Brittany?"

"Forget it. It's permanent. I might as well just accept it." She eased herself off of the table to drop onto the chair, then from that to the floor. "I'd better get to school."

"Everyone else already took the school bus, and it was due five minutes ago." Dave sighed deeply as he thought of how much time he'd lose by dropping her off at school. "I gotta call my boss and tell her I'll be a little late. Just get to the car. I'll drop you off on my way to work. Now, where'd I put that tie…" He murmured as he wandered out of the kitchen.

"Okay, Dave." She took up her bag and solemnly made her way to the front door, exiting through the installed partition flap in it. Out now on the porch, she was about to head over to the driveway where the car was, but she halted. A car had pulled up out in the street. It was obviously an expensive one, and Brittany instantly got it in her head that it was probably one of the important people that Dave worked for. The passenger door opened in reverse in the 'suicide' fashion, but instead of a person's leg alighting from the door, it was-

"… Alvin…?" She was already stepping forward, and before she realized it, scampering to her significant other. "Alvin?! You're here!"

The Red Seville grinned when he saw her. "Brittany!" he exclaimed, "it's been ages!" His thoughts became excited at the prospect of catching up with her. Turning to the person(s) inside the car, he yelled for them leave without him; with that said, they drove off and left him at the curb. He didn't stay there, though. The chipmunk found it in himself to dash forward to meet Brittany halfway and once they did, grasped her tightly in an embrace. "… I missed you."

"Me too!" Almost on impulse, she pushed him away just hard enough to express her displeasure. "If only you visited more often, or even called us every once in a while, it wouldn't have happened!" The chipmunk had the decency to become sheepish and grinned.

"Well, you know me. Always on tour. I only came back from Japan this morning-"

"J-Japan?" The chipette boggled at him in both disbelief and jealousy; she'd always wanted to go there. "You just came back from _Japan_?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. The airport was just in the next state, so I made a scene just to get them to take me here. I…" He looked down in growing embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't want you guys to forget what I looked like."

That's what he said, though it wasn't what she heard. Through the layers of his ego, she heard 'I didn't want to forget about you'. Immediately, she began to mentally curse the requirements of success, that of hard work by one's lonesome. "Sure you did. Anyway, Alvin, it's been two years!" she exclaimed excitedly, "and I finished all the pills! You can come home now, right?" Despite Dave's earlier caution that there was likely more medication on the way, she wanted to ignore it. She'd hated the fact Alvin had resorted to joining the Illuminati just to pay for her treatment. They took him away from her, notwithstanding that it was his choice to make.

Alvin fidgeted uncomfortably. "Oh yeah, about that…" He turned sideways to show her his backpack, something she had earlier failed to take notice of. "I brought you something." He wasn't behaving eagerly, so she didn't find in herself to be either. Instead, she was the opposite, becoming worried that it was something that she actually didn't want. He rested the bag on the ground and unzipped it. He then pulled out a large pill bottle, identical to the one the now-empty one that Dave had thrown away this morning.

Brittany's eyes widened. "No, no, no, no. NO!" At her outburst, Alvin backed away a step, befuddled at her behavior.

"What's wrong? They told me at the airport that you were gonna run out this week, so I told them that I could drop it off! It was a good excuse to get them to let me visit! Besides, don't you want to get better?"

"Is THIS why you even wanted to come here? Just to drop that off?"

"No! Of course not, Brittany! I came because I care, alright! I _love_ you, Brit! But I'm doing this, _all_ of **this,** just because I don't want to see you in pain!" he insisted. "Why's that so hard for you to understand?"

"You don't want to see me in pain?" Brittany echoed, "these pills heal my lungs and break my heart, Alvin. I didn't want you to resort to this-"

The front door opened sharply, interrupting the chipette mid-speech. The opening of it revealed a messy-looking Dave who was trying to tie his necktie whilst talking on the phone. "I'm gonna be running a little late, Lucy! Could you just stall the clients or something? Show them your rare-stamp collection or something, just long enough for me to get there-" For the first time, he perceived that someone was standing with Brittany in the front of the yard, someone who was chipmunk-sized. "Alvin?" He returned his attention to the phone and now spoke more calmly. "Lucy, I'm gonna have to call you back." He did not even bother to hang up, only slipping the cell into his pocket and went over briskly to his son. "Alvin? Is that you?"

"I haven't changed _that_ much, Dave! Well, on second thought, I have. I'm even more awesome!"

To this, Dave only sighed, "I see that your ego is still as large as ever. But you stopped by at a really bad time."

"No worries!" Alvin nearly shouted in excitement. "So long as you haven't thrown out any of my old clothes, I can stay. I get to stay here for a month. Better than just a weekend like last time, am I right? You can still go to work. My only condition… is that Brittany stays home with me today. Summer holiday starts tomorrow, right? Today's the twentieth, so tomorrow's when it's gonna start. Sweet, huh?"

"Then you don't need Brittany to stay home, Alvin," Dave rebutted, "if you're going to be here for a whole month, you can at least let her go to school for the last day."

"I need to talk to her privately about a few things, Dave. Really important things. By the time she comes back with the others, they're just going to be in the way and... well…" His voice was making a small request, but Dave could see that his eyes were begging him. Dave himself did not know if he was becoming a softie, or too lenient since he hardly ever saw his son anymore.

"Fine. I'll allow her to stay. If she's alright with it-"

"I'm alright with it," Brittany agreed quietly. "Dave, could you just carry the pills inside before you go? Alvin and I can't manage it."

"Is that what this was?" Dave reached down and picked up the bottle of pills. "Is this your medication?"

"Yeah. It's my _medication_." Her voice was growing increasingly solemn and depressed, but Dave tried to ignore it, knowing that even a few hours with Alvin would make her a bit more chipper.

"Okay. Oh, and Brittany? Make sure Alvin doesn't burn down the house."

…

Dave had been gone for the past fifteen minutes, time that Alvin had spent wandering through the house, feeling this and that and recollecting his finer memories of growing up there. Ever since he and his brothers had come to this house, it'd become their home, more than any other. As he grasped that, he suddenly regretted ever joining the Illuminati in the first place. Of course, the number of benefits was staggering, high earnings and opportunities to sing with artists of high caliber, but he missed what he felt truly mattered. Living with his family, playing with his brothers, singing with Brittany. Sure, he sold out to be able to afford her medicine, but now wished that he'd had another solution.

"So Mr. Seville, if you're done feeling the furniture," Brittany broke him gently from his musings with a tease, "what was so important that I had to skip school?"

The chipmunk took a deep breath, pondering what was the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. "I've been thinking about what you said to me in the hospital. That I'd be going to hell after I die since I was going to join the Illuminati. Doesn't that mean that you believe in heaven too?"

"Sure I do. There's nothing wrong in believing that there's a better place waiting for you after you die," Brittany argued. "But where are you going with this?" Unable to make himself dance around the topic anymore, Alvin steeled himself to ask what _needed_ to be asked.

"… Brittany? Do you believe in God?"

* * *

 **No, this is not a cheap shot. I intend to answer this question, and I'm already working on the next chapter… in my head. Anyway, pay close attention to the date mentioned in the chapter. It's important. I decided to drop in a small plot point in the fic that should be able to tide it over for another two or so chapters so I can end it properly.**

 **Besides, Brittany's smart. I expect her to be able to answer the question without any bias. Or that's what I think, anyway.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	5. Ill 5

**Ill: Evil's Definition**

 **Firstly, I had to get writing, lest I forget my answer. But let me get this straight. I have to answer whether or not there is a deity (or multiple) or confirm science's denial of their existence. And since that's the case, I'll have to be as general as possible when using religious references, especially since it's clear that a character like Brittany's wouldn't be a devout person of any faith. But as a warning, the answers are inferential… that means that I'm arriving at the answer by using nearly-sketchy evidence, although it's accurate. For both sides, that is.**

 **The answer CAN bore you. Don't read this chapter close to bedtime.**

 **Secondly, I'd like to thank those who are still reading and supporting this story. I know that this isn't an exciting or dramatic fic, nor is it as romantic as one would like it to be. If I'd let it be, it would've ended in chapter one. But while I'm at it, I'll try my hand at doing a fic with a 'Spiritual' genre. Yay, I dared to be the first at something new.**

 **Thirdly, 'TheSteelMushroom', you have a profile under the same name, right? Spelt with only common letters? We need to talk. As per your review, I thank you for your compliments and your questions will be answered today.**

 **But we still need to talk. If you're interested, shoot me a PM from the profile. If not, I'll take it that you're not.**

 **5.**

Brittany was certain that she would've done a spit-take when she heard the question. "H-huh? If I believe in God?" The question was unexpected, that factor was true, although it was that much more surprising coming from Alvin of all people. On reaction, she went for what would have been her default answer. "Sure I do."

Alvin shook his head. "Nah, I didn't ask the right question. What I should've asked was… do you think that God or any god or _gods_ are real?"

This time, her response was less unsure. "Yes, Alvin." A horrible thought came to her mind as she mused over his strange question. "The Illuminati didn't put you up to this, did they?"

At the drop of the organization's name, Alvin frowned as he took off his red cap and looked at the front, scowling at the symbol on the crest. "No. But I can't go around believing in **nothing**. If I don't believe in something, I can fall for _anything_ they tell me. I might even start believing that what they're telling me is the truth. Science is basically their law, and according to them, any sort of god is merely a 'figment of imagination'."

"And you chose to ask me?" Brittany asked, baffled. "Why didn't you go ask a preacher, or a religious professor or something?"

"They're all biased." Alvin turned away to look at the window high above him, noticing how the light was bathing both his companion and himself. "And they were all trying to 'convert' me or whatever. Besides, they were trying to convince me with religious books and stuff. You know, books are written by _people_. No one can even show me an artifact or book that was written by a god, or prove that he exists without any doubt. All that's left is science. Evolution, dinosaurs, laws of physics and whatever. Heck, when some of those guys back at the base talk to me, it actually makes me _miss_ school. They've been trying to teach me what they know."

Brittany bit back on her chuckles; this was a serious disquisition. "Alvin, if I had to be completely frank, I'd have no evidence that any god exists. The only way to prove that a god or _gods_ exist is to prove that science is wrong. We need to do a little role-play, Alvin. Tell me about how science is **right**. Then, I'll try to tell you how religion is _better_." The last came out as a challenge, even if a bit coy given that she was smirking.

"Well, science is based on facts."

"Facts discovered by… people. We used to think that the world was flat. I guess we can be wrong about our theories after all, huh?" Brittany shrugged her shoulders. "Guess that's a point for religion."

"What about computers, huh? And machines. **Science** made them," Alvin argued, sure of what he was implying. "They're as close to gods as what we have. They don't make mistakes."

"I always wondered why they need to be fixed and updated regularly…"

"True," Alvin admitted carelessly, "but they can make calculations faster than us. I remembered that you used to use a calculator for math tests."

"They don't have to worry about using brainpower or _processing_ power, I should say, to keep their _organs_ functioning. Manage all of our thoughts. Hell, even keep their eyes open and write down answers. Ever wondered why when you've got a lot of things running on a computer and it's a pain in the ass just to get it to open the calculator application? They have the same rules as us. I bet that if our brains only had to worry about multiplying huge numbers or finding out a square-root of something, we'd have the answers instantly too."

"…" Alvin gritted his teeth. She already had three debating wins to her argument and he was still at nil. While he did want her to be able to convince him of religions to be indubious, he didn't want her to be able to rack up an easy quarrel against him. "Science proves that the earth is billions of years old. There aren't even any religious books that date back as far as that. The farthest that most historian can tell is that people who wrote ancient books of religion counted their years as _months_. And while that is the case, the bible dates that the earth was _made_ around four to five thousand years ago."

"While I would say that the earth could have been _made_ that way with certain things aged, I would have to ask… how **does** science prove that the earth is billions of years old?"

"They tested core elements, like lead inside the earth."

"Hmm… fair point," Brittany conceded, already thinking of a workaround. "I'm not gonna mention how they could be prone to make errors. Instead, I'll have to say that many things don't look their age. Those elements could have been in an environment that aged them quicker, just like how there are fossils only in soils that preserved them well. They'd have to test everywhere on the earth just to make this a valid point."

"Still a point for me. And on that note, there aren't any religious texts or pictures which say anything about dinosaurs, because they all existed long before humans."

"Check again. All the aged religious texts, especially those about Christianity, come from a certain area in the middle east where the Israelites and Jews populated. No dinosaur remains have ever been found there, although they were elsewhere. I'm gonna leave it up to imagination why they weren't there, Alvin. But don't you think that's a little bizarre?" Brittany climbed up the table to where the computer was and booted it up. While it was loading the home screen, she settled back comfortably at the keyboard. "They were everywhere else, so the people who wrote the bible didn't make any mention of them. I wonder… Oh! Science says that they were wiped out by a meteor. Remember, the earth is round. That means that a meteor would have to hit the whole planet at once. THAT is impossible, unless there were millions of meteors hitting every spot where a dinosaur was located at the same time. Also unlikely because a meteor shower tends to follow in _one_ direction. There is a theory about the flames of the meteor igniting the bountiful oxygen of the atmosphere. But if that was the case, it would have killed everything, including every plant and animal. No reproduction, and even if an animal or two survived to _evolve_ ," she spat the word with disgust, "they'd have to go without food for _how_ long? Besides, for the firestorm theory, there's nothing on the planet that could breath pure oxygen and live. So the firestorm couldn't have happened in the first place if there was actually a mix. Carbon, you know."

"You're going to tell me about a flood? 'Noah's ark'?" Alvin deadpanned.

"Lots of religions have a 'flood' story. I can't very well imagine any dinosaur being able to swim, and even the ones that could fly would have to be able to fly for an indefinite amount of time."

"You seem to know a lot about this," Alvin observed with an air of distrust, narrowing his eyes to slits. "Are you actually a believer in science?"

"I've had this kind of argument before. Besides, while you've been touring, I've been in school. Go figure."

…

…

…

They had been going on for quite a while. Brittany had over a dozen points in debate wins, while Alvin only had a rather pitiful few. He was already more than willing to give up at this point, as he only had two topics left. "What about evolution. Humans came from apes-"

Brittany did not look up from the computer as she made her reply. "Did you know that the Tainos and Central Amerindians used to press their babies' foreheads with flat boards to shape their skulls as they grew up? These are people who crossed over from the Eastern hemisphere over the Bering Strait on a presumed bridge of ice, bringing their long-lived customs with them. And what about their elders, the older ones with bad-backs? Hunched-backed people?"

"That's weak answer, Brittany. That's only relying on coincidences."

"You can take the point. I feel sorry for you. Besides, I'll have you know that Charles Darwin, the man who proposed the theory of human evolution, believed in _God_." Ignoring the chipmunk's gasp, she went on. "What's next, Alvin?"

"The Big Bang. Can you, without a doubt, tell me-"

"Finally. I've been sitting on this web-page for a long time. It says here that 'nothing existed'. There was only a Singularity, a zone of immense gravity. It can, impossible to believe, crush _**something**_ until it has infinite density. It's like having a single sheet of paper, crushing it in your hands until you have every library on earth in your hand, plus extra. Or you can freeze a block of ice and the molecules that make it up to become so tightly packed that it's literally the artic that comes out of it when you smash the block of ice. That, Alvin, makes absolutely no sense." He was about to argue about this, but she shushed him up. "I'm not done ripping into this theory, Alvin. The Big Bang wasn't an explosion. It basically took a _tiny_ something that it _crushed_ into something even smaller, then expanded it into what we now call the _universe_. Our little insignificant rock that we call Earth, was a part of that package. It's like they're saying that someone took a grain of flour and baked billions of cakes, with trillions of pounds of flour left over. There are too many holes in the theory, Alvin. They said that there was nothing before the Big Bang happened. Then why was there a 'something' there in the first place? Space itself didn't even exist, and yet there was a _something_ , and a Singularity of gravity. Why was there even a Singularity there to begin with? How can it crush something that was originally _nothing_ , then expanded it into everything?Questions, questions. It makes you wonder why they had such a hard time believing that Jesus fed a crowd of five thousand _men_ , not including women and children, with only five loaves of bread and two fishes."

"And you believe in a 'creation' story? A god that created the earth out of thin air? That's just pure fish, Brittany."

"Not for an omnipotent one," Brittany cautioned, "and I think it's far more believable than an insane half-baked theory. "Look, the highest recorded number is a _**googol**_ _._ It's the number 'one', followed by a hundred zeroes. A googolplex is basically a _**googol**_ _squared_. It's said that there isn't enough room on the planet to house all the paper you'd need to write it down properly. It's times like these that you have to appreciate the impossible and accept the infinite. For everyone, I can't say that a higher supernatural being exists, as they can only deduce that there is on based on their own findings… and their faith."

"Faith? What about evidence, Brit?" Alvin could barely keep himself from yelling in exasperation. "Do gods exist or not?!"

"I'm sure that they do, or at least, God does. You know, different religions incorporate information and facts from one another, so it's hard to tell which religion, Catholic, Protestant, Buddhism or whatever, is actually the real one. But it's the only explanation when science fails. It might try to explain the age of the earth, boast about evolution and hypothesize the creation of the universe. But they can't explain all the things that are really important. Religion gives us drive, reasons to exist. They explain **why** _we_ exist. They explain **how** _we_ exist, and what waits for us _when_ we **stop** existing."

"But it's only blind faith! There's no evidence to support the existence of God. Hell, even the so-called regales of Christ could be exaggerations and the miracles of today could only be coincidences."

"What or _who_ created the first creature? Why? How? They drew breath. How and why that happened, we don't know. And why do _you_ draw breath, Alvin? Does science explain why you live? Your mother and father did a 'special hug'. But why, as a fetus, did you grow and continue to breathe after you were born? What caused you to start breathing in the first place?"

"I-"

"I'd be unfair if I started sounding overbearing, Alvin," Brittany remarked with a smile as she came down from the computer. "There's no argument. Both religion and science complement one another. Each time that one that opens a door, they find the other waiting. When there's a question with an impossible answer, the only solution is to accept that it's either a product of a ridiculous scientific coincidence or a higher, _supernatural_ being. As for me, I believe in God. And you," she pointed at him casually in an un-accusing way, "will have to decide what… or _who_ … to put your belief in."

Alvin looked down in contemplation. It finally came to him that it was all it boiled down to. Both facets had glaring holes gleaned from feeble understanding, despite whether or not Brittany had put up a strong argument. It all came down to faith, in which territory to side with and place his trusts in. It wasn't like a placebo; he was deciding in which path he would carry his life. Both sides had benefits and cons, and it was hard to decide which faction in which he'd dedicate himself to. In each, they both had aspects within themselves that contradicted one another; religions vying for the position of being the justified, and science was riddled with scholars who disputed with varying theories. It was all a mess, and Alvin's standpoint was a difficult position to be in; in a world like his, he could not stay on the fence, and would have to make his choice.

Soon.

His mini-cellphone began ringing out from where it was in his pocket, making Brittany look up. "Huh? You have a phone? For your size?"

"Yep!" Alvin held back on grinning. "One of the perks of being me." He took the call and answered, "Hello, Alvin speaking? Yeah, Draven? What is it?" After listening for a while, his jaw dropped in disbelief, inveigling Brittany's curiosity.

"Alvin? What's wrong?"

"It's Chester." The phone dropped out of his limp hand, soon followed by a hot tear. "He's dead."

 **Yep, the date in the fic today was only a day before summer vacation, so far as I can tell. July 20** **th** **, 2017. I know I keep bringing up Linkin Park's frontman, soiling his reputation and what-not. But ever since I made the choice to continue the fic instead of leaving it as a one-shot, I decided to use him as a character for the plot, incorporating his passing into the story. It's not done yet, although the existential part of the fic is. Sorry if I bored the lot of you, but I guess this means we can have some better romance later, as well as some unexpected twists. Take care.**

 **Valete omnes,**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


	6. Conclusion

**Ill: Evil's Definition**

 **Forgive me. I'm rushing ahead. Yet another fic needs to be completed, and it** _ **will**_ **be concluded.**

 **6.**

"It doesn't matter what I believe in, and it sure as hell ain't whatever you bozos think is right!"

"Then you have no stand with us."

"I'm not going to par with _pigs_ who don't even practice what they preach!" Alvin reached inside his shirt and pulled out the ring that he wore around his neck on a cord. He'd long hated that he had to wear it, and he despised knowing how he came to wear it… and why he had to. "You killed Chester! That's why you stuck me in his room from the start! Because you wanted me to replace him!"

"We needed a Pop-icon to sing songs in the Rock genre. Your name came up." The man intercrossed his fingers and rested his chin on them; it was a clear sign that he was growing bored of the chipmunk's tirade, though Alvin obviously cared little for his faux pas if he realized that fact. "We did not kill Chester. He killed himself, not to mention the fact that you shouldn't sling around accusations without any proof."

"He sent me an email from one of his incognito email addresses! He knew from the very start that you wanted to replace him with _ME_! You placed me in his room! You even gave me his ring ever since he died! Just because he knew he was done for anyway, he decided to investigate why I came here in the first place." Alvin's shoulder slumped as he recalled the loss of his sole friend; it'd been a trying few years since his recruitment into the Illuminati, and all he had now were memories. The few good ones that he shared with kindred singers were overall soured by the Illuminati's poison in their day-to-day lives.

And then there was the reason why he was here in the first place…

The image of Brittany, all of his recollections even, coursed through his mind. All of his reminiscences of her were innocent and chaste, their interactions demanding of more. He wanted so badly to further his relationship with her…

Then she fell sick.

There was no question about what he'd do and how far he'd go to ensure that she got through her illness.

Admittedly, in retrospect, he should've sought for other solutions, other methods of getting to a cure for her, rather than to metaphorically sell his soul to get it. Nonetheless, it demonstrated the lengths he'd go for her, though they hardly needed this as testimony to show how much he loved her.

Despite this, he'd departed for a season.

Ever since he'd left their home since receiving the news of Chester's demise a few months before, he'd been digging through the metaphorical graves that the rock-singer started. They brought him here before the figurehead leader of the Illuminati, and Alvin refused to be daunted by him and his colleagues that seemingly remained hidden by ambient shadow.

"I was to replace him!" Alvin exclaimed in anger before he ripped off the cord from around his neck. Pulling the cord out of the ring, he looked at the underneath and pointed at it. "The engravings' the exact same! This was his ring! You had the _damn_ mind to kill him!"

"As I said before, we did **not**. Is that your only complaint, _chipmunk_?" The leader asked in disdain.

"Hell… **NO**!" Alvin roared. "I found out the truth! You bastards were the ones that caused Brittany's sickness in the first place! You all poisoned her!"

The men were silent; it was as if they all collectively held their breath as Alvin laid bare his heart and mind.

"I never wanted to join the Illuminati! But you all realized that despite our failing situation, I wouldn't sell out to you! That's when you decided to tighten the screws…! You slipped something into Brittany, and poisoned her! That's why it was so _utterly_ insane that a chipette could get sick with a disease that only affects middle-aged people! You knew that I'd do _anything_ to make sure that she got her meds, and guess who came calling again with the promise of money? You're animals, and that's coming from ME!"

"This is just idiotic speculation from a rodent on who's merely a few inches high," one of the men articulated. "Should he not be punished for his hubris?"

"Punish?" Even in the shadows, it could be seen by the splotches of white in the darkness that the leader was grinning. "But he's right. The only question that remains… is _what_ shall he **do** about it?"

"I…" Alvin looked up at the men who sat in their positions of power, of great influence and reach. He wasn't even on the same size level as they were, much less try to contest their might; who could contest against the Illuminati? "I can't do anything… except to walk… and walk… and walk."

"You can't leave. You signed a contract."

"I wonder which court you'll take that to."

"You took an oath!"

"…" Alvin smiled devilishly. "I crossed every single one of my fingers and toes."

"Before you leave, you'd be shot. Frankly, taking a bullet at your size would leave an exit wound that's even bigger than your whole body. There wouldn't even be enough of you to mop up, much less to give a funeral."

"…I don't care." His eyes narrowed soon after as he sought to look each of the men in their eyes. They all sat in their throne-like easy chairs, secure in their positions of being de-facto leaders of the earth, looking down at him. He found the courage to look them all in the eyes and said his piece. "I don't care if I die. I essentially came here to work for a bigger paycheck. I got paid, and you got your work done because I sang your shitty lyrics. Besides, if you killed me, what would that prove? 'Another Illuminati singer commits suicide?' in a red headline on some tabloid?"

"That you keep your trap shut about all you saw and heard here."

"I won't tell anyone. Besides, you'd probably pull a few strings to make me look bad and lose credibility, just like how you did for everybody else… just because you're a bunch of murderers, crooks, and liars." He pointed his finger at each of the five, accusing all. "You were willing to poison. To lie. To maim. To kill. This doesn't make me want to believe that science is the one that's right. It only serves to make religion look better, despite all the wars and conflict's it's caused. You wanna get people on your side? Stop messing with people's heads. But whatever you do, leave me…and _Brittany_ … out of it." With that said and done, Alvin walked out, never to return.

None tried to stop him. Not one.

 **=X=X=**

"Here we are. Seville residence."

"Thanks." He looked up at the chauffeur with a sad smile. "The last time, huh?"

"I'm afraid so. Take care, Alvin. And do be careful… they're not people to be trifled with," the driver warned as he reached behind over to open the passenger door for the chipmunk.

"I know. I'll take care." The chipmunk adjusted the bag on his back and stepped out. "You wanna come inside for a drink or something?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid it's no longer safe to associate with you. I'll be off." With that, he pulled the door and drove off, leaving Alvin standing at the curb. With a shrug, the Seville walked through the open spaces of his gate and entered his yard. As he approached the front door, he thought back to the whirlwind of experiences he'd been on. In honesty, he felt as if the rose-glasses had fallen from his eyes and he was seeing everything for the first time.

 _~Take a look around me.  
Taking pages from a magazine,  
Been looking for the answer,  
Ever since we were seventeen.~_

It was true. The earth's leaders didn't rule the earth from the presidential offices and the castles of monarchy, but rather in the shadows away from public view. They were of a class without equal.

 _~You know the truth can be a weapon,  
To fight this world of ill intentions.  
A new answer to the same question…  
How many times will you learn the same lesson?~_

Alvin got the psychedelic feeling of seeing his memories playing against the background of reality as he walked. There were the times when he helped his brothers, being assisted by the chipettes, playing pranks and fleeing Dave's wrath. They were all well received, and they were his once more to continue.

 _~Been dreaming of the payoff,  
Through the struggles and the trade-offs.  
Write in truth heading on the way up.  
Tell them the truth but they think it's just made up!~_

Of course, he felt put-off by the fact that he had helped to further the Illuminati's cause, but everyone all had the choice of whether they wanted to listen to him or not. Everyone had the choice of being able to make their own decisions. The choice of who and what they believed in.

 _~Eventually they're gonna know who's right,  
To make a stand you got to win the fight.  
Can't stand the heat then just stay out of the light,  
For you might never make it out alive.~_

The Illuminati were like a vice, tightening around his neck. They used him by bringing his affection for Brittany into play, harming her to force him to accept their offerings. For that, he'd never forgive them.

Never.

It didn't matter if he'd worked up some synthetic faith and beliefs. He made his choice not to believe in what they stood for, and that was enough for him. Knocking on the front door as hard as he could, he waited for someone to answer it. Soon enough, someone did, making Alvin smile when he saw who it was.

Seeing Brittany's smile in reciprocation only elevated his mood.

"Alvin? You're home!" Her squeals of excitement carried obvious hints that she was glad to see him, and he felt the exact same. She actually had the moxie to virtually tackle him to the floor in a glomping hug. In all of this, Alvin hugged Brittany tightly, as if he'd never let her go.

"Yeah. I'm home," he said quietly, only for her ears. "For good." They remained like that for a while, mellowing in the closeness of their contact as they snuggled. "Whoa. 'Killing with love' is just an expression…"

"I missed you, Alvin. A lot."

"…" Alvin's expression softened. "I missed you too. It's been kinda rough, and I'm glad I'm home. I'm glad that all of this is behind me." He started to stand up, and he helped her up as well. "It's been kinda crappy, but I think I've gotten all the better for it."

"What do you believe in?" In answer to her question, he tip-rubbed Britany's nose with his before kissing her on the lips; it was her first one, lucid and light. It begged for exploration, but Alvin pulled back before they could, leading her to believe that he was proposing a deeper relationship with her.

She gladly accepted, and pulled his head back towards her own, and made sure to leave an impression of a second kiss so powerful that his legs were all wobbly at the knees. "Whoa."

Brittany smiled good-naturedly before hugging him tightly from the side. "Alright, Romeo. Let's get you settled in again."

"Lead on, Juliet!" As he progressed farther into the house, he remembered his cap on his head. It was loose from his recent acts, and he took it off to look at the emblem at the front. The Eye of Providence, better known as the 'All-Seeing Eye', still sat there in the middle of the 'A', letting him know that the Illuminati was probably still watching him. 'Enjoy the show of my life, you bastards."

He got a distinct feeling that he was being watched, however. While strange, it soon left him as soon as he tossed the cap into the garbage can he passed as he walked along with Brittany.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

 _~Yeah we're gonna be legends,  
Gonna teach 'em all a lesson,  
Got this feeling that we're so sweet-caring.  
It's about to be legendary!~_

"I think I'm fine."

* * *

 **Song Excerpt: 'Legendary' by Welshly Arms.**

 **In my opinion, I reckon that this fic was somewhat mediocre. Sure, I brought in some heavy topics that I needlessly fleshed out, and yet, I'm alright with it. Every time I read it, it serves to remind me of what I believe, and what I** _ **need**_ **to accept as the truth. Not everything is quite so black and white.**

 **I guess that's it. Until my next fic is posted/updated in this fandom, I guess. I hope you enjoyed this one, and I hope even more the next fic will surpass it.**

 **Thanks for taking this spiritual journey with me.**

 **MRAY 4TW.**


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